


Mini Fictions of the Redwine Universe

by Justcannibalthings



Series: Mini Fics [4]
Category: Original Work, new hope asylum
Genre: Airports, Beaches, Chocolate, Desserts, Domestic af, Family, Fluff, Fluffyfest, Game Night, Homophobia, Implied homophobia, Italy, M/M, Mini Fic, Not Beta Read, Parking Tickets, SO, all of it is just light, but its derek, but its so light, but only because its derek, derek being derek, its, lude humour, maybe some very light smut, sand, seriously, so much of it, what a bitch, writers block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justcannibalthings/pseuds/Justcannibalthings
Summary: I haven't posted in a while, so I thought I'd publish the little fics I occasionally write to fight with writers block.





	1. Game Night

Derek was leaning as far forward as he possibly could, not really sitting at this point, just hovering over the sofa- controller clasped tightly in his hands, tilting at a sharp angle as he twisted around a particularly challenging corner, skidding with seemingly no control. Bryn sat beside him, eyes focussed entirely on the screen as he curled methodically and gracefully around the corner, letting his dreaded blue shell fly. Echo, sat on the floor, his eyes silently glued to the screen in a similar focussed glare as Bryn- was just about to cross the finish line when the shell hit him, “Control Z” He whispered, as both Donkey Kong and Yoshi flew across the finish line, followed shortly by a loud and violent scream of what was no doubt Italian expletives as Derek jumped up, almost flinging the remote across the room in his haste. Bryn let out a small laugh “It isn’t about winning, Derek.” He stated, smug grin on his face as Echo crossed the finished line, having recovered from his shell. Boo followed behind, as the tiniest of the family let out a cheer of completion, the noise of rapid and random button mashing finally ceasing.


	2. The Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek swims. Bryn is confused.

Derek flopped down on top of Bryn with a happy hum, slightly out of breath and covered in a layer of liquid. Bryn let out a grunt in response, Derek’s hair dripping onto his shoulder as the red headed male nuzzled himself into Bryn slightly larger frame. Derek reached a wet hand out, patting around Bryns chest until he located his hand, which he promptly dropped onto his own back, and let out another content hum. “comfy.” He muttered contently against Bryns shoulder, who just looked confused at Derek’s outward display of affection in such a public setting. They had opted for a holiday somewhere warm, and Derek had pestered and begged until they’d gone to a beach, and after failing to convince anyone else to join him had spent the last three hours alone in the ocean. Bryn had been concerned he was dead; but had spent the time reading on an oversized beach towel, and ensuring the kids weren’t in danger, or burning. Derek said sunscreen was for ‘pussies and the British.’ And refused to put any on. Derek mumbled something incoherent, nuzzling further into Bryns neck and loosening the light scarf around it without removing it completely, before planting a series of kisses in the same spot, not moving aside from that. Bryn was confused by the change; this was fairly intimate, and neither of them were particular fans of PDA. This felt different to Derek’s usual demeaner though, there was no groping for starters, it was actual affection, not attempts at foreplay. Bryn ran his hand up and down Derek’s back, he was damp from the ocean and was a pleasantly cooling presence. “I love you, Bryn” He muttered against the crook of Bryns neck, his voice was heavy- as if he’d just woken up, and his words blended together. “I love you too Derek, but I will not fuck you on this beach.” Bryn responded, mostly to get the complaints and begging over with now. Derek let out a soft gasp “I don’t want to have sex, I just want to lie here for a bit. I missed you, tell me about your book.” He ceased the kisses, and nuzzled into the bit of exposed flesh of Bryns neck. Bryn blinked; Derek not wanting to have sex- there's a first time for everything. “It’s about the universe, and how it might not really be expanding” he stated, waiting for the groan that usually came from Derek when he started talking about space. “s’interesting. Tell me about it” was the response, barely audible due to Derek’s position. Maybe they should make this a regular trip.


	3. Mornings

I trudged my way upstairs, it was still silent in the house; the crepe mix was ready, the fruit was sliced and ready to go, and the (low sugar) jam was setting in the fridge. The disgusting piss water Bryn refers to as tea was one button away from being brewed. Breakfast is a very important meal, you know. I pushed the bedroom door open, and dropped myself gently onto the bed, crawling over Bryns sleeping form on all fours. I always turn off his alarm, I don’t like the idea of him waking up so abruptly when this is so much more pleasant. Bryn looks so at peace when he sleeps, it makes me feel so much better when I know he's had a night’s sleep not plagued enough to wake him. I dropped my weight down slowly, planting a kiss on his cheek and muttering down his ear; “Come on, you lazy ass it’s time to get up”. Well, I can’t be too nice can I? Bryn let out a groan, he's used to me doing this at this point; he's lucky I don’t mind his morning breath. Bryn twisted his head to me, and I dipped down again, catching his lips this time in a lazy kiss- Bryn always tastes good, even first thing in the morning. He tastes like familiarity, and comfort- it’s like tasting your favourite sauce and remembering every time you ever had it, except I get to do this whenever I want now. Bryn returned the kiss, of course- it was lazy and kinda sloppy since he’d just woken up. I eventually broke the kiss, rolling onto my side, facing him and dropping my head onto a hand- my arm bent. Bryn blinked at me a little, before sitting up and dropping him glasses onto his face, blinking some more to adjust himself to the morning. “good morning, Derek.” He supplied, and I gave him a lazy smile. “It always is.”


	4. Tickets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets pulled over.

Ah, shit. I reluctantly pulled the bike over, dropping one foot onto the floor to keep it steady. “Can I see your licence, sir?” No, fuck off. “Non parlo inglese” I stated, giving him an innocent look. The male sighed. “What language? I can get an interpreter. Parlo what?” I raised a brow at the male, before sighing- I dropped my hand into my pocket, removing my wallet and handing the uniform clad cunt the card. “Can I ask why I'm being stopped?” I questioned “Oh you can speak English now you can’t get around talking to me? Can you remove your helmet, and would you like a list?” he asked, raising a brow. Cheeky cunt. I pulled my helmet off, hanging it on the handlebar and dropping my hand into my jacket pocket, pulling a pack of cigarettes out. I have a feeling this isn’t going to be quick so I light one up, deciding to be polite enough to exhale away from him. “I would, yeah.” The male looked at me, “speeding, erratic driving, illegal overtaking, texting while driving. Take your pick, Mr Boyer.” He responded, glancing down at the licence in his hand. “It’s Llewyn-Boyer. And I wasn’t texting and driving, I was at a red light. And I wasn’t speeding! I was barely over 40.” I responded, trying to not punch the fucker in the throat as I flicked ash to my side, exhaling as he responded. “This is a 30 zone, and that doesn’t excuse it, you shouldn’t be on your phone when in control of a vehicle. Do you have an excuse for the overtaking and weaving or can I just write up your ticket now?” well fuck you. I flicked the cigarette stub away, taking in a breath and letting out a sigh. “It’s more dangerous to stop than it is to just weave around the cunts who can’t drive. Do you want me to crash?” I retort, this cunt has never been on a bike before, clearly. “I don’t particularly want to total my bike, or have to explain why its totalled to my husband.” I ran a hand through my hair, it always feels weird when I have a helmet on. Good job Bryn made me put one on though, really, as that would definitely get me a hefty fine. “Well I don’t think you want to explain to him anymore why you’re in a hospital.” He responded, scrawling in his stupid fucking ticket pad thing before handing it to be with my licence. “You have 30 days to pay it, or appeal it. But I am fining you for speeding, illegal overtaking, running a red light, and texting while driving. You’ll also be getting points on your licence, which is all explained on the ticket.” He spoke calmly, unbelievably so quite frankly the stupid fuck. “Great. And what if my kids need shoes?” I asked, raising my brow at him. “Then let’s hope your husband is a better driver than you are. Have a good day- and remember this is a 30 zone” I sighed, as he returned to his stupid fucking cop car, and I dropped my helmet back on. Bryn is gonna kill me. This is my third ticket this month.


	5. Tiramisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food can not be left unsupervised in the Llewyn-Boyer household

I walked into the front door, leaning against it to close it and shrugging off my jacket as I spoke “CIAO BRYN!” I hung up the wonderful leather, before removing the helmet Bryn had insisted I wear, wandering to the kitchen. “No? Nobody home? Alright. Fuck you all then” I spoke mostly to myself, dropping the helmet on the cabinet and proceeding to make coffee. I raised a brow; it felt distinctly lighter- the bag of coffee grounds I mean. Nobody in this house even drinks coffee. I swear if dahlia has been sneaking my fucking £30 coffee I'm going to refuse to pay her. You know what, I’ve had a distinctly stressful day, and I deserve chocolate. I pull the fridge door open and blink. Is that Tiramisu? I pulled the covered plate from the fridge, putting it down on the counter and removing the lid. It is. Who made this? I should probably taste it, whoever its intended for would definitely want it approved by an Italian, so I pull a fork from the cutlery draw, and proceed to take a tiny piece. Don’t want to eat it all now do- oh. That’s where my coffee went, because this is definitely not regular strength. This is bitter, and earthy and I suppose another forkful won’t hurt because really if you’re going to use my coffee, its techinically mine anyway. Alright, well now it’s lopsided, better eat some from the right to even it out. I think the coffee is probably brewed by now, but fuck it can wait. I leant against the counter, continuing to rather heroically even out the deliciously dark dessert. “Papi you found your surprise too early!” A distressed child’s voice called, and I turned my head fork in mouth. “Derek. Have you eaten an entire dessert by yourself? In one sitting?!” I blinked at Bryn, and looked down at the plate which was apparently empty. The coffee press silenced itself as the coffee finished brewing. “No.” I stated, dragging a finger along the plate, before licking the remnants of cream and coffee off my finger. “Now I have.”


	6. Italy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't speak italian. Derek can.

I dropped myself down onto the floor, beside Bryns lovely soft presence. He had a book in his hand, and was reading under the safety of a parasol. He's so lovely, my own nerd- to have and to hold. A fallen star, just for me. “Ciao, mi amore” I threaded my fingers through Bryns lovely curls, letting them tangle through my fingers. “Hello, Derek. You’re in a good mood.” Bryn closed his book, resting it on the blanket beside him. I let out a contented hum. “Because I'm with you, mi amore. You look so wonderful with a tan. Your Greek blood is glowing” Bryn blinked at me, his beautiful green eyes sparkling, although he did look a little confused. “Derek, if I didn’t know better I’d ask if you were high.” High? I gasped a little, I would never throw away my life for drugs. I love Bryn and our wonderful angels far too much. “Bryn no, I would never get high, I just love you so much. I love all of you so much, I would never throw away what we have, not for anything, especially not that poison, Bryn I-“ Bryn cut me off as I felt my breath begin to shallow, “Derek, relax I was not being serious, I know you wouldn’t go back to drugs. I was just commenting upon your…relaxed and happy demeaner” I felt Bryns arm snake behind my neck, and I nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder, adjusting my arm so I could still play with his hair. Its so soft, so curly. Bryns hair is just like him, bright, hard to get to the centre of, but soft and hard to let go of, once you get hold of it. “How sweet, Derek. Although, for what is now over the 300th time, I will not have sex with you outdoors, especially not with our children within eyeshot.” Bryn gave me the same look he gives me when I make a sex joke, I didn’t realise I’d spoken aloud. “I don’t want to have sex, mi amore, I just want to be near you, and watch our wonderful children build sandcastles, in the same way we have built this wonderful life.” I let out a content sigh, resting my head on his chest; I know my hair is probably wetting his shirt, but I'm sure Bryn doesn’t mind. I could feel Bryns eyes on me. “We do have a wonderful life, it’s one I would not trade. I love you very much, you know Derek.” Bryns hand had moved when I put my head on his lap, he was running it up and down my back. “I love you too, Bryn. You’re the best pillow” 

A few hours past like that, Bryn read his book aloud, and I enjoyed the general contact, and the somewhat lopsided sandcastle created by Calvera and Echo; complete with seaweed garden. I put my shirt back on once I’d dried off (and my shoes as soon as I’d gotten rid of as much sand as possible) and we began to return to the hotel. The sun was lowering now, and honestly, I don’t think I can handle being on a beach at sunset anymore, so I'm grateful that Bryn wanted to leave. I had my hand linked with Bryns, mostly because I was the only one who knew where the fuck we were going, and we had a child holding our other hand; to avoid them getting lost. I cannot think of anything worse than losing my children in Italy. They couldn’t even ask for help. Someone walking past decided that my sexual preferences were noteworthy, and decided to loudly vocalise his disgust, in Italian though, thankfully. Nobody else understood it. I felt Calvera’s hand slip from mine, and went to grab it again but she’d already run after the guy. I released Bryns hand and jogged lightly after her, calling her name to get her to stop and reaching her just as I heard her let out a string of Italian vulgarities, poorly pronounced though they were. “Calvera!” I pulled her close to me, letting out a sigh of relief at the contact with her, before standing back up. I returned my eyes to the male, who looked quite pissed at the fact that he had been sworn at by a child. “I am so sorry, she doesn’t know what she’s saying, Italian isn’t her first language. Or her second actually. She doesn’t know what she’s saying, she just copies me…Not that I just walk around swearing but, well my husband and I, we have two kids, so there's just crap everywhere and I'm always fucking kicking it. Shit see, there. And there. I’m so sorry, again.” I winced a little at my own awkwardness, and thanked the heavens Calvera wouldn’t understand the string of Italian. “husband? They let you marry now? No wonder your freak of a daughter is a mess.” 

Bryn sat beside me on the bed in the hotel room, forcefully holding ice on my bloodied knuckles. He’d been mad until I’d provided translation. Homophobia I can handle, but anyone who wants to insult my kid isn’t going to be able to eat solids for a while.


	7. Airport

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Has this been posted twice? Probably.

“Random search my ass”  
“Sir, please calm down and come with me”  
“No thanks, if you want to search me you can do it here, I don’t mind.”  
“Sir, please put your belt back on”

I scowled at the female, keeping my unbuckled belt in my hand and making it abundantly clear how I felt about being ‘randomly’ searched. Oh look at the grungy dude with the track marks, of course he’s just got to be carrying drugs. It’s just absolute horse shit, why the fuck would I take drugs with me on holiday with my family?! Bryn looked equally pissed off, but mostly just tired since it was like 4am and we’d both been carrying Calvera and Echo around for quite a while, on top of all of the shit you have to take with you when you go abroad with children. Bryn gave me his dad glare, assumingly because he just wanted to get the travelling over with. I gave the woman a growly ‘fine’ and did my belt back up, watching her face shift into relief and giving a small cough. “right, come with me please sir”. “Mr. Llewyn-Boyer” I corrected her, if she’s going to assume I’m using heroin then I’m going to remind her at every opportunity that I am in fact a happily married man with children, so that when she is proven wrong it stings that much more. Besides, I like being called by my last name now. 

“Sir, I am going to search your bags as we suspect the man you are travelling with is trying to bring narcotics with him. “The officer stated, looking at Bryn with a cold stare, glancing at the children- who were now awake due to the great delay. Bryn looked at the man as Calvera clung to his leg for comfort. “Look at their faces. Go on, look at them.” The man looked at Calvera, and then Echo with a look of sympathy and pity- but not because of the hold up. “No, they will not bite. Calvera, no biting, okay? Please, sir, take a moment and look into their eyes. What do you see? Youth? Innocence? Purity? Of course, they are children. Now look them in the eyes, my good sir, and tell them-- tell them why we are not yet on our plane - their first ever plane trip. Tell these pure, naive souls why they are held up at four in the morning, their daddy taken away from them in a confused tangle of staff members - perceptibly giant strangers. Tell them. Go on, sir. Tell them to their faces. Tell them straight." The man let out a hard cough, “I am going to search your bags, if your children find it distressing they are free to sit over there” The man gestured loosely to the bench opposite, where passengers sat waiting to board. Bryn looked at him, and remained still, placing a protective hand on Calvera. He commenced his search, going through each of the bags respectively and letting out awkward coughs at the plethora of lubricant, soap (Bryns favourite which is admittedly an odd thing to carry) and lifted up a string of silk, raising a brow at it before Bryn spoke flatly “They’re for tying my husband’s hands up”. The male’s eyes widened, and he promptly returned them to the suitcase, zipping it back up. “clean” He stated, in a rushed voice as Bryn continued to give him a deadpan stare. “Thank you, I’d like my husband back now please. My children miss their father.”

I walked slightly behind her, since I had no fucking clue where I was going, and shoved my hands into my pockets. They had decided that Bryn and the kids luggage would be checked as well, despite the fact that I had packed nothing but my own shit, because let’s face it, of the two of us Bryn is the responsible one and the one that’s depended on the most. I was led into a room, and promptly patted down before being asked to strip. Now, I have an issue with people assuming I still use drugs. I didn’t, not before Bryn or Echo or Calvera. But the idea that I would use something like that around them, the idea that I would go to parents evening high or read them to sleep after a line of coke makes me feel sick to my stomach. The idea that I would hurt Bryn like that… The fact that other people think I would do that just fills me with a dark rage, a burning in the pit of my being. I did as they asked with a steely look on my face, and spread my arms out, dipping my head down and glancing at my naked form. I can’t believe they wanted to conduct a strip search. Is this even legal?

After being patted down, told several times to stop making ‘inappropriate’ jokes, degraded further, and allowed to redress I sat down, pulling my legs up onto the chair and holding them loosely to myself. I just wanted to see Bryn, and maybe suck his dick in front of all these people to give them something to complain about. A nonce walked in with a few pieces of paper in his hand, and sat across from me, pulling his chair into the table and looking at me. I gave him a bored stare, “Can I go now? I am clearly not carrying any drugs.” I stated, holding as much sass and annoyance as I dared. “Just a few more questions sir, then you can leave.” The male states, and I look at him with a glare of annoyance and fatigue. “fine, hurry up I have a plane to catch and shit to do.” The man scowls at me, clearly he thinks I care about whether or not he thinks my language is appropriate, which it is. “Can you tell me the reason for your visit, and if you have taken drugs in the past year.” I blinked at him; these questions are incredibly pointless. “I’m Italian. I’m going to Italy, figure it out. And NO for the 600th time I have not snorted, injected, smoked, or shoved any drugs up my arse, not even fucking paracetamol now CAN. I. GO?!” The man glares at me once more, before scanning his eyes over the paper in his hands. I really don’t know what the fuck he’s expecting. I’m pretty sure they’ve probably testing our bags for traces of drugs, and found nothing. They’re probably going to ask me to lay down in the fucking bag scanner in a minute to make sure I haven’t swallowed a nice baggy of heroin. Cunts. “Can you tell me what those marks are on your arms then?” He asked, as if he’d caught me out in a lie. Arrest me officer! I have scars! “They’re commonly known as tattoos.” I answer, giving him an innocent smile, the bastard should have realised by now I would make this difficult. He gave me a tired ‘I do not get paid enough for this, you know what I meant’ look and I tilted my head, blinking innocently before feigning a look of realisation. “OH! The track marks. They’re track marks. From heroin mostly.” I looked back at him, not breaking eye contact and could see the discomfort and surprise at my honesty. “Is there a policy against gay drug addicts using this airport? Because I only actively give into one of those desires.” I dropped my legs down, leaning on the table and glaring at him. “Well, perhaps that isn’t your husband you’re with, and its just a ploy to pedal drugs”.

After being briefly handcuffed until Bryn could get the man to agree to not press charges, we were shuffled onto the plane as the final passengers were boarding. Lord have mercy on them if we had missed this flight. At this point, Echo and Calvera had both woken up, and Bryn and myself had buckled them safely into their seats, before securing ourselves. Why I need a seatbelt on for 5 minutes I don’t know. Bryn handed the kids their pre-approved distractions (Portal DVD player, and a DS, headphones with both of course) and turned to me with his ‘dad scowl’. “You didn’t have to punch him, Derek.”. Of course I did, he insinuated two things, the first being that you lied about being married to me, and that these magnificent, tiny being are not our children, and the second being that I didn’t love you. That drugs mean more to me than you do, that I get up in the morning with heroin tangled in my arms, and make pancakes for LSD. He can say what he wants about me Bryn, but to bring my family into my history is another matter. “Sorry.” Bryn gave me an unconvinced glance, and settled back in his seat. Clearly, he was going to continue this later. I dropped my head onto his shoulder, and closed my eyes, content to just be near him again even if he was a little miffed. I felt his arm wrap around me, and his hand in my hair and let out a content hum. I dropped a hand onto his chest and muttered to him then “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.” Bryn let out an unconvinced, but light-hearted noise.


End file.
